“It is.” The voice confirmed. “After some deliberation we’ve concluded if you're anything like your mother, your own best protection is yourself. We knew though, that if you weren’t at least somewhat informed you may inadvertently put yourself in harm’s way.”
“Like my mother,” I hummed with defeat. “Just one thing is...is Tav in witness protection?”
“Please keep your head low, that’s all we ask. And notify us of those lockboxes.”
“Why do you want them? What’s inside of them?” I ventured.
“Dig deeper, find the story. Keep this app installed and we’ll reach out if we come across anything that impacts your security. We wish you the best.” The speaker went silent then.
I dropped to the floor, fresh tears stinging my eyes.
With or without Tav, my world would never be the same.
I sat silent for long moments, my mind unwrapping the information bombs that’d just been dropped on me. My fingers shook as I remembered the strange note I’d received earlier. I typed out a sentence on the app and sent it to the anonymous number.
The reply took only a minute.
Chuck must have sent the threatening note. He’s convinced you killed his son in that hotel room. Don’t worry, he’s covered in security detail at all times, he can’t do anything. His political enemies make him a liability, he won’t be active long.
I replied:somy family is collateral damage in Chuck’s political career?
More like strategic political targets by foreign enemies. Tav was a target too.Came the reply.
I thought over my next question, then asked without considering the implications.Tav’s overdose was an accident, right? There wasn’t foul play?
There is always foul play. As long as the information you have remains concealed, so will ours.
They knew. They’d found the security footage of my leaving Tav’s hotel room, or worse, had evidence that implicated me. I thought of the syringe then, maybe they’d dusted it and found my muddled prints. I still didn’t believe Tav was dead, which meant whatever evidence they had on me could be used to publicly implicate me in Tav’s apparent overdose.
The air vacated my lungs.
I was still a captive, only my captor had changed.
My fingers darted over my next question, but then I deleted it. I didn’t need the answer confirmed. If Tav and I were targets, Bradley was too.
I didn’t reply, only shutting down my phone and vowed to toss this one over the bridge tomorrow, right after I bought a disposable one. I didn’t want anyone to find me where I was going, not if it put them at risk.
I sucked in a deep breath and stood. If I had any hope of getting through this next phase of life, I'd need to believe that Tav was alive and we’d both escaped the chalet in our own way, this time anyway.
It was the only hope I had at carrying on.
Epilogue
One Year Later
There are some fates worse than death.I began my first article.It’s dark inside the belly of the beast. I know, I’ve been there.
The first time I met Senator Charles Garrison I was eight-years-old.
I paused my typing, thoughts lingering over my next sentence like déjà vu.
If I had it to do over again, would I?
I swallowed, thinking back on the last time Bradley had visited, his warmth welcome on the Arctic cold nights that were my reality most of the last year on Deception Peak. I wasn’t just surviving in the chalet, I was thriving. I’d started my own blog detailing pieces of the puzzle as I found them under an anonymous moniker. I had a steady following of readers that subscribed to my bi-weekly posts, and a growing number that sent donations to an anonymous payment account that I’d created in Bud’s name.
We used the money to buy supplies, and split the difference for a rainy day.
Bud still made regular Sunday supply deliveries, but now instead of hurrying off like a stranger, I brewed coffee and we sat on the front porch and talked about the things that had happened to both of us in the previous week.
